How Far Is Heaven
by justanoutlaw
Summary: Robin feels heartbroken when he finds a letter addressed to a little boy's father that has passed away. He's determined to make both the boy and his mom smile.


**Based on a Facebook post I saw with a similar story.**

Robin could go all day without anyone saying a word to him on his route. He'd get polite smiles from people behind their curtains and waves from those as they pulled out of their driveway. Sometimes people would ask him if they had put enough stamps or chew him out for the notice asking them to please shovel their walkway in the winter (though he always put a note pointing out a service he knew about kids that did it for free if they couldn't). Robin wouldn't say he loved his job, but he didn't hate it either. Most would say he was going through the motions of the day to day.

That all changed the week after Thanksgiving.

He was halfway through his route, walking up a stone walkway as the cool late November air brushed against his cheeks. All of the houses in the neighborhood looked pretty similar, but this one was one of the few not fully decorated for Christmas. There were no lights or lawn figures, just a simple wreath on the door. It was flung on, crooked, almost as if it had been done in a rush. He couldn't blame the person, his own apartment probably even wouldn't have a tree that year. Robin hadn't been in the mood to do so in quite some time.

Just as he opened the mailbox, a shorter woman exited the home, with a young boy following behind her. They were bundled up for the cold, her nursing scrubs showing beneath her coat. She was walking quickly, the little boy struggling to keep up.

"Mommy, can we put up more decorations this weekend?"

"Maybe."

"But the house looks so boring."

"I told you, it's a lot of work for one person."

"I can help!"

Robin saw the mom give her son a sympathetic look and pat his cheek. She wasn't being patronizing, but was clearly just so tired. He had seen that look before, in his own mother's face. Looking back, he felt so bad for the hard time he gave her. Begging for toys and candy after his father walked away, when she struggled to barely keep the lights on and food in the fridge. The first Christmas after everything changed, he had whined that their tree was too small and that they weren't leaving cookies for Santa. Kids didn't always see the bigger picture and sadly, this was the case for this little boy.

"Come on," the woman said, instead of responding to his insistence. She tucked a strand of her raven black hair behind her ear and cuddled her peacoat closer to her. "I've got to get you to Aunt Mary Margaret's before my shift and I'm going to be late."

Robin snapped out of eavesdropping and returned his line of his vison to the mailbox. He noticed the flag was up and pulled out a couple of envelopes, slipping in the mail they were receiving. Robin almost missed the second, smaller letter and frowned when he noticed the childlike writing. It had a flag stamp in the corner, but not an address you would expect.

To: Daddy

Heaven

Robin knew that opening mail was against the law, but this was a different case. Another one of his colleagues would've chucked it in the trash or worse, stamped a "Return to Sender" on it. He couldn't do that to the little boy. He finished the route and kept the boy's letter in his pocket. It wasn't until his shift was complete and he was home in his tiny apartment, did Robin open it.

The handwriting matched that of which was on the envelope and was written on a piece of notebook paper that still had the spirals on the side. Watermarked on the green page was a picture of Yoda. There were some various Star Wars stickers stuck to the page, but very strategically placed so they didn't overlap with the words. It took a few tries, but Robin finally made out what it said.

_Dear Daddy,_

_I hope you had a very good Thanksgiving. Did you have dinner with Jesus and Grandpa? I miss you a lot, Mommy misses you too. She doesn't cry anymore at night and I sleep in my own bed, she said you'd be proud of me. Christmas is coming. Last year, I spent it with Aunt Mary Margaret and Uncle David because Mommy worked. Aunt Mary Margaret said she needed to be dis-track-ted. This year, she promised she won't work though and we'll have a tree. I wish you could spend it with us, but Mommy says one day we'll see you again. The new Star Wars was super cool. Do they have movie theaters in Heaven?_

_Love, Henry_

Robin was crying by the end of the letter. In many ways, the boy was wise beyond his years while also being so innocent. He was a sweet kid, one who just missed his dad. He knew he couldn't just let it be, he had to respond. Not as this boy's father, no, that would be inappropriate. Instead, maybe he could find a way to assure Henry that his dad knew how much he loved him.

**********************************************************  
Regina dropped down at the table, the sound of the Muppet Movie coming in from the living room. The smells of leftover mac and cheese filled the air as she kicked off her white shoes. She had an afternoon shift that day and had caved, making something simple for dinner. Henry had scarfed it down, not reading her thoughts about how different it would be if Daniel were there. Her husband had worked, but since his hours were more flexible than hers as a nurse, he took care of the house. After his death, she had nearly let the house go to hell. Between work and caring for a grieving little boy on top of her own grief, it wasn't priority.

Mary Margaret had been the one to whip her into shape. She told her that no one blamed her for being sad, but that Henry needed stability. Mary Margaret cleaned the house and cooked a ton of meals, freezing them. She stopped by every single day, showing her step-sister that she wasn't alone anymore. Regina and Mary Margaret had never been super close as teenagers. They weren't enemies, just very different. Daniel's death brought them together and now, both her and her husband David were her rock. Henry seemed to do better having his aunt and uncle around more, anyway.

It had been 2 years since Daniel died and she couldn't believe it had been so long since she had last seen him. She replayed the final time she saw him in her head. He had promised he'd be back soon, he just wanted to do some riding with old buddies. Daniel was a trained equestrian, but gave up his future career to get a more stable job for Henry. He still occasionally went out to the fields. Something spooked his horse and Daniel hadn't been able to take control. He was thrown from his horse and according to the doctors, suffered a stroke that killed him. Regina hadn't been able to step near a horse since.

She flipped through the mail, sighing at the bills. She was doing better about catching up with them, now that the life insurance policy was finally out of all the red tape. What she wasn't expecting was her son to have a letter. She didn't recognize the return address, so she opened it first, making sure it wasn't some pervert trying to scare her son. Inside was a letter, printed on plain white paper. It was all type, barred the signature at the bottom. A picture was attached of an envelope with Henry's handwriting and Regina felt her throat catch. Henry had tried to reach Daniel? Moving the polaroid out of the way, she began to read.

_Dear Henry,_

_I wanted to let you know that your letter has been delivered. It was a bit of a challenge, as we had to navigate around the stars and galaxies to reach Heaven. Not to worry though, we succeeded and the letter is in your father's possession before Christmas. It is harder for us to get replies from Heaven, but I am sure he is enjoying it and would love to receive more letters from you. I will personally make sure they are received._

_Sincerely,_

_Robin Locksley_

_Your Postman_

Regina had seen the same postman for the past three years, ever since they moved to the neighborhood. She hadn't done so much as said "thank you" to him when she saw him putting mail in the box. She did her best to keep the walkway clean and always used enough stamps. Robin could've just as easily tossed it out or wrote return to sender. She found herself crying for the first time in over a year, her blurry eyes rereading the letter once more.

For the next week, Regina did her best to catch the mailman. Henry had loved his letter and was so excited to think that Daniel had truly received the letter. Regina would either be working or Robin was just too damn fast. Finally, in the second week of December, she saw him coming up on her day off. She practically tripped out the door, still in her fuzzy socks and pulling on her sweatshirt.

"Robin!"

He looked up at her, his blue eyes filled with curiosity. "Mrs. Colter?" Until that moment, she didn't realize that he was English.

"Regina, please." She held the zipper part of the one thing keeping her warm. "I…I've been wanting to say thank you. For the letter."

Robin softly smiled. "It's no trouble. I saw it and figured I should handle it before anyone else got hold of it and broke his heart."

"I had no clue he was even writing to his dad. I mean, I'm not against it. I just don't know how he did it all on his own. He's only 7…"

"Kids are smart creatures. He probably watched his mom do it and figured it out."

"It meant a lot to him, it's all he's talked about for days. Our amazing mailman that got a letter to his daddy in Heaven. He brought your reply in for show and tell, the entire class was in awe. I think it was the first time they didn't look at him and see the boy that lost his father."

"I know how important that is."

Robin walked further up the steps and placed the mail in her hands, rather than the box. She got a better look at his face, scruff and all. The more he stared at her, the more she felt her knees growing weak.

"I want to make you dinner," she blurted out.

Robin arched an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"As a thank you. Henry will be there and he'd love to say it himself. You're his new hero."

"Well, that's very sweet."

"You don't have to, if it's awkward."

"I want to."

"Great. I'm making lasagna tonight, it's my specialty. What time do you get off?"

"5."

"Then come by when you can."

"I'll be back here by 6. What can I bring?"

"Just yourself is enough."

"Alright, milady. I'll see you tonight at 6."

It wasn't until he had pulled his truck away from the curb that she realized that she had just asked her postman out on a date.


End file.
